


Duelling Techniques

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: Potter has come up with a great way to keep Draco's duellng skills up to par.





	Duelling Techniques

**Author's Note:**

> **Challenge:** Written for the October 2018 prompts at Daily Deviant. Themes/kinks chosen: dildos, lighting: using lighting to set the mood or being aroused by a particular type, color, or intensity of lighting, obscene gestures: perhaps used to pick up a partner or tease/arouse/entertain a partner. 
> 
> **Author's notes:** Thanks to Sevfan and Emynn for the beta, and to Torino10154 for the encouragement. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Duelling Techniques

~

“Malfoy.”

Draco goes still but doesn’t turn to look at the man behind him. “Potter.” 

“Are you…busy tonight?”

A thrill of anticipation immediately settles in Draco’s core. “Not especially, no.” He feigns disinterest as he turns to face Potter. When he sees Weasley standing behind him, Draco raises an eyebrow. “Do you need something?” 

Potter’s mouth curves into a small smile. “I thought we could practise some duelling techniques. You know, like the other night?” His hands are discreetly in front of him, out of Weasley’s line of sight, and he makes an obscene gesture, siding his right index finger in and out of his fisted left hand a few times. 

Draco’s mouth goes dry, and he almost moans when he recalls _the other night_. He couldn’t sit comfortably for several days afterwards. Clearing his throat, he smirks. “Sure, I’m…up for it. Especially since I…won last time.”

“Wait.” Potter blinks. “You think you won?” 

Draco crosses his arms over his chest. You think I didn’t?” 

Potter licks his lips. “Clearly we need another one to decide the question.” 

“Clearly.” Draco pretends to consider the options. “Tonight at eight?” 

“Brilliant.” Potter inclines his head. “I’ll be by then.” 

As Potter and Weasley turn away, Draco hears Weasley ask, “Why do you like duelling him so much, mate? He’s such a prat.” 

Potter’s reply drifts back to Draco’s straining ears. “The antagonism makes our duels interesting.” 

Humming, Draco returns to his filing, and once he’s done, goes back to his office. When he walks in and finds Pansy, her feet propped up on his desk, he raises an eyebrow. “You do have your own office, you know.” 

“I know.” Pansy’s eyes narrow. “Right. What’s happened to you?” 

Draco frowns. “How do you know anything has happened? I only just walked in.” 

“I know you.” Pansy eyes him up and down. “You’ve a spring in your step and you were humming in the hallway, which means you’re in a good mood. Only one thing can do that these days. You’re getting shagged.” 

Rolling his eyes, Draco moves towards his desk, shoving her feet off before sitting. “You have a one-track mind.” 

“Maybe, but I’m still right.” Shaking her head, she stands. “Fine, keep your secret, but I’m going to find out who your lover is eventually.” 

Draco ducks his head, biting back the urge to tell her everything. He and Potter have only got as far as they have by being discreet. He’s not about to risk that by telling Pansy. “We’ll see.” 

Huffing, she leaves, and Draco tries to focus on his work. It’s impossible, however, since thoughts of what the night has in store keep intruding. Finally, he gives up, and about thirty minutes before it’s time to leave, he packs up his stuff. “I have an urgent appointment, Silvia,” he tells the secretary on his way out. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight, Auror Malfoy.” 

“Goodnight.” 

When Draco gets home, he strips out of his uniform, tossing them into a hamper. A thorough shower follows, after which he changes into loose trousers. He contemplates pants, but then discards that idea. After all, more clothes will only get in the way. 

Locating his stash of floating candles, he levitates them, then, frowning, he assesses the lighting. The lamps are bright, and he spends several minutes muting them until his entire flat is bathed in an amber glow. With a flick of his wand, he transforms several cushions to burgundy, and pursing his lips, contemplates the rest of his decor. 

By the time the knock on the door comes, Draco’s flat is a warm, cosy haven, quite different from his usual cool blue and green decor he favours. Lighting the floating candles with one whispered spell, Draco walks to the door, exhales, and opens it. 

Potter’s there, and in his hand is a paper bag containing what looks like a bottle.

“Wine?” Draco raises an eyebrow. “You want us to try _drunk_ duelling tonight?” he murmurs, stepping aside to let Potter in. 

Potter laughs. “That would be scary, wouldn’t it? No, I picked this up on the way over. It’s not wine, I just made it look like it because…well—” 

Closing the door, Draco turns to face Potter, his mouth dropping open when he seen him extract one of the largest dildos Draco’s ever seen from the bag. 

Potter coughs. “We don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“Shut up, Potter,” says Draco absently, his eyes trained on the dildo. His arse clenches as he imagines it sliding in and out of him, Potter in control of it. “And I definitely want.” 

“Yeah?” A wicked smirk crosses Draco’s face. “Brilliant.” 

Draco looks away from the dildo and into Potter’s eyes. “Would you like something to drink? I have wine—”

“No.” Tossing the dildo onto the sofa, Potter walks Draco backwards until he’s against the door. “You know why I’m here.” 

“Ah yes.” Draco throws as much challenge as he can into his smirk, but his heart’s racing and heat has already settled in his core. “Duelling practice.” 

Snorting, Potter captures Draco’s mouth in a searing, devouring kiss, one that leaves Draco breathless and panting. “May I touch your…wand?” he breathes against Draco’s lips, his hands already sliding beneath the waistband of Draco’s thin trousers. “You know, to ensure it’s…adequate for our duel.” 

“Oh,” Draco gasps, his head hitting the door as sensation slams through him, “trust me, it’s adequate.”

“Mmm, more than,” agrees Potter, his hand sliding along Draco’s length. “But there’s only one way to be absolutely sure.” He briefly cups Draco’s balls before wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock.

“Yeah?” Draco moans as Potter’s fist squeezes him. “What…what’s that?” 

“I need to feel it inside me,” Potter whispers, his fist measuring Draco’s length. “I want you to fuck me, then I want to watch my dildo fuck you.” 

“Fuck.” Draco whimpers as mental images bombard him. “Bed.” 

“Good idea.” 

Somehow, between deep, searching kisses and fumbling hands, they stumble towards Draco’s bedroom. Potter raises his mouth from Draco’s neck to look around once they’re inside. “Nice candles.” 

Growling, Draco pulls the last of Potter’s clothes from him before pressing him down onto the bed. “Are you really here to admire my decor?” 

Gazing up at him, Potter slowly smirks. “Definitely not.” He drags Draco’s face down to him, kissing him, rolling him onto his back so Potter’s straddling him. “I’m here to ride your cock until I come apart.” 

Draco trembles. “What are you waiting for?” he whispers. 

Potter’s smile is dark, dangerous. “Not a fucking thing,” he says, leaning down and capturing Draco’s mouth with his once more. His tongue slides against Draco’s, and as they entwine, Draco feels a wandless Lubrication Charm move over him. 

Moaning into Potter’s mouth, Draco grips Potter’s shoulders, shuddering as Potter fists his cock, spreading conjured lubricant over it. When Potter sits up, positioning Draco’s cock at his hole, Draco clutches the sheets, preparing himself. 

As Potter sits down, his arse swallows Draco’s cock, his inner muscles squeezing and causing a whimper to spill from him lips. 

“You okay?” asks Potter. 

“Fuck, yes,” breathes Draco, his hands clinging on Potter’s hips. “Move!” 

“Yes, sir,” teases Potter, sliding himself first down, then up. His mouth falls open, little pants escaping his lips. “Fuck, you feel amazing!”

“So do you.” Draco watches Potter, his face flushed, his eyes sparkling as Potter rides him. The flickering candles cast soft light, making Potter look like an amber god as his muscles flex as he moves. 

Pleasure unfurls in Draco’s centre, and with a growl, he rolls Potter into his back, slamming into him as his body takes over. 

“Yes,” gasps Potter, as Draco drapes Potter’s legs over his shoulders. “Fuck me, Draco. Come on!” 

And Draco does, all finesse gone as he shoves into Potter as deep and as hard as he can. Within moments, he feels warmth on his stomach as Potter shudders through his orgasm, but Draco simply fucks him through it, finally coming with a grunt and collapsing on top of Potter. 

“I’d call that a tie,” whispers Potter as Draco pulls his deflated cock from his hole. 

Draco snorts, rolling onto his side and raising himself up onto his elbow to gaze into Potter’s face. “I’d say I won, Potter. I held out until you came, after all.” 

“You would claim a win.” Potter hums, raising his hand, and a moment later, the dildo he brought slaps into his palm. “Fine. Care to see how long you hold out while I use this on you?” 

Draco’s heart speeds up and his cock flexes.

Naturally, Potter notices. His slow smile is knowing. “Looks as if you like the idea.” 

In reply, Draco shifts onto his stomach and spreads his legs, tossing a confident smirk at Potter. “I’m going to win this duel, too. You’ll see.” 

Sitting up, Potter sets the dildo on the bed. “I suppose we will.” When he moves behind Draco, however, Draco scowls. 

“What are you doing? Don’t you need the dildo?” 

“Preparing you.” Potter’s thumb circles Draco’s hole, and Draco has a moment to wonder before Potter presses his face between Draco’s cheeks and _licks_ a wet circle.

“Ah!” cries Draco, his eyes slamming shut, every teasing lick and push of Potter’s tongue inside his arsehole making him tremble. “Merlin!” 

“Mmm,” says Potter, his face going deeper as he seals his mouth around Draco’s hole and stabs inside with his tongue. 

Draco screams, his body shaking, his cock hardening almost immediately. “Fuck!” 

And Potter ignores him, his tongue continuing to lick and stab, circle and tease. He’s relentless, and how he’s able to breathe, Draco has no idea. In fact, Draco can’t imagine anything at all; his mind is lost in a haze of pleasure, his only thoughts are that Potter never stop. 

When Potter draws back, Draco’s hips buck and he whines. 

“Shh, I’ve got you.” Potter sounds smug, but given what he’s been doing, Draco doesn’t begrudge him. 

Draco gulps air, and before he can form words, he feels a Stretching Charm and the press of something hard and warm inside him. It’s large, and the burn it causes brings him back down from his pleasure high, and before he can stop himself, he whispers, “ _Harry_.”

“Mm, I must be doing something right.” Harry twists the dildo, and Draco cries out as it brushes his prostate. “Aha. There it is.” 

The oiled dildo begins moving in and out of Draco, nailing his prostate on every thrust. Draco’s gasping, whining, and Harry’s right there beside him, nibbling soft kisses onto his neck and shoulders. “You should see yourself,” Harry whispers. “You’re gorgeous.” 

Draco’s arse muscles clench and the dildo speeds up. “How…are you…moving the dildo?” he gasps as Potter continues caressing him with both hands, touching every part of him but his cock. When Draco tries to stroke himself, Harry slaps his hand away. 

“Magic, of course.” Harry hums, running his nose along Draco’s jaw, his palms over Draco’s stomach. “You know, I think next time, I’m going to have it fuck your arse while I fuck your mouth.” 

_That_ imagery does it. With a hoarse cry, Draco comes, his cock spurting untouched, his body shaking.

When Draco’s himself again, he’s wrapped in Harry’s arms, and the candles are low. “Fine,” he finally murmurs. “It’s a tie.” 

Harry laughs. “You know what that means, don’t you?” 

“What?” 

“We need another duel to decide on the winner.” 

Closing his eyes, Draco smiles. “Whatever it takes.” 

~


End file.
